


Angeli Impius

by thequeergiraffe, Winnywriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel POV, M/M, Pre-Canon, Rated for smut, Twincest, essentially PWP, set in 4th century Rome, there's some plot there though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeergiraffe/pseuds/thequeergiraffe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnywriter/pseuds/Winnywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel had been watching humans since their humble beginnings, and he’d always thought their mindless rutting seemed dull and repetitious. To find that he’d been so incredibly wrong, that just the whisper of Balthazar’s lips against the pulse in his throat could make him gasp and scrape his fingers against the wall…<br/>---</p><p>When Castiel tells Dean he's a virgin, he's technically telling the truth.</p><p>Technically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angeli Impius

**Author's Note:**

> One hundred thousand thank yous to Winnywriter for all the delightful smut in this fic! Isn't it lovely?

Of course they were twins; Castiel expected nothing less. That they were also aristocratic boys, the youngest sons of a powerful general, surprised Castiel no less. As it was in Heaven, so it was on Earth. Wasn’t that how the saying went?

Balthazar grinned at Castiel lopsidedly, gesturing to his vessel. “How shall we break them in? I dare say I’ve got a few ideas.”

“We aren’t here for your pleasure, Balthazar,” Castiel said, dropping the boy’s usually sweet voice an octave or so. “God himself demanded our presence on Earth. There is work to be done.”

Tugging at his toga, Balthazar winked at him. “God sent us down here on recon. This job, my dear, is a cakewalk, and we both know it. How often do we get to spend some time among the people?”  The toga dropped around his ankles, and he stretched his arms out and tipped his head back, reveling in his nakedness. “And at a time like this! Love the Roman Empire, don’t you? They had all the right ideas about life.” He spotted a table bearing fresh fruit and wine, and immediately began to move towards it. “Good values,” he mumbled, popping a grape into his mouth.

“Your vessel-” Castiel began, his hands furling at his sides with frustration.

“Has been through countless tribulations, what with his faith being quite illegal,” Balthazar finished, pouring two glasses of wine cheerfully. “I’m sure he can stand a little indignity at the hands of an angel. Now, what shall we drink to? Let’s say…to us,” he said, passing Castiel a glass and raising his own. “And to our freedom, albeit temporary.”

Castiel shook his head. “You shouldn’t speak that way,” he said softly, but he drank anyway.

\---

They spent their first day on Earth in over a century wandering an open air market, sampling a bit of everything- at Balthazar’s insistence- and taking in the startling complexity of the city around them. Despite himself, Castiel couldn’t help but agree with Balthazar’s observation: there really was no place in human history quite like turn-of-the-4th-century Rome.

Even so, Castiel couldn’t quite forget why they were there, though the mission was still some distance in the future. Anna was a good leader, and she often afforded her people a little time to get used to the perplexities of being confined inside a vessel. It took time to build the bond between human and angel, to win their trust and establish their faith, and then it took even more time to get used to the nagging sense of _need_ that tugged at him constantly, demanding things that were suddenly unnecessary, like food and sleep. Beyond that, there was the sheer amount of input, the vast realm of physical sensation that Castiel often forgot entirely until he was crammed inside a body, feeling everything at once. Everything- from the stir of wind that made his clothes rustle against his skin, to the sun warming his face- gave Castiel pause. He’d only taken three vessels prior, and none of them had been as young or eager as the one he was in now. It made the experience more overwhelming than he’d expected, as though Castiel himself was a mere boy, hungry for the world around him.

Thankfully, it seemed Castiel had no cause for embarrassment. Balthazar looked equally rapt and consumed, his eyes round and his mouth softly parted. Only when he turned to Castiel did his lips press closed again, taking on a playful lilt that only partially matched the look in his eyes.

They stopped at a stall to purchase a pomegranate, and Castiel let Balthazar deal with the haggling and money-handling. Castiel himself was terrible with currency; the concept was so far beyond his comprehension that he’d long since given it up as a miss. Balthazar had a mind for it, though. He picked through the meaningless circles of metal in his palm easily, handing a few to the merchant and earning himself a toothless smile.

“There was a time when one could exchange things in a sensible manner,” Castiel said in Enochian. Romans were used to foreign languages; no one in the milling crowd batted an eye. “I have five chickens, I’d like to trade you for a cow, that sort of thing. Much simpler.”

Balthazar laughed and nodded his thanks to the merchant, sliding his arm through Castiel’s. “You have to stop living in the past, Cassie, and learn to enjoy the present.”

\---

They left the city that evening, walking along the Via Appia toward the north for no reason but because they could. The weather was mild and the air outside the city itself was sweeter and cleaner, making Castiel close his eyes and draw in deep, contented breaths. Beside him, Balthazar only chuckled and tightened his grip on Castiel’s arm.

“We should get an inn-room tonight,” he said quietly, drawing Castiel’s mind back.

“Yes, of course,” Castiel frowned. “Because we’ll get so much use out of it.”

Balthazar smiled slyly. “Not for sleeping, you imbecile. I have more indecorous plans than that, I assure you.”

“Now who’s living in the past? You know the rules, Balthazar. This isn’t like the old days when you could come down here and mate with whomever you pleased.” Castiel looked at his friend seriously. “You could get into trouble, wantonly abusing humans like that.”

“I never _mated_ with anyone against their will,” Balthazar sniffed. “I prefer my participants willing, thank you. And besides,” here he stopped and leaned in close, “who said anything about humans?”

Castiel blanched. “Balthazar, no. Even excluding the usual objections…are you honestly suggesting we defile our vessels? They trust us, they expect-”

“It’s nothing they haven’t done a thousand times on their own,” Balthazar pointed out, making Castiel blush. He knew as much, of course, but he always tried to respect his vessels’ privacy to the best of his ability. If there were any memories tinged with shame or embarrassment, Castiel kept his distance from them. Not so with Balthazar, it seemed.

“We shouldn’t,” Castiel said weakly. This dance was familiar; Castiel had spent most of his existence fending off Balthazar’s advances, with declining resolve. As much as they were opposites, he and Balthazar had always felt like a matched set. For every Michael, he supposed, there was a Lucifer. And while Castiel would never presume to place himself on equal footing with his elder brother (nor condemn Balthazar as an abomination), the truth still stood: they were day and night, constantly cycling around each other, one following the other with perfect rhythm.

Balthazar brushed his fingers down the length of Castiel’s arm, the longing in his eyes not quite hidden by his coy smile. “What’s stopping us, Castiel? Tonight we’re young and rich and alive. Let’s leave duty for tomorrow, mm?”

Castiel couldn’t believe himself, couldn’t believe the hushed whisper that tumbled from his lips. “Okay,” he mumbled shakily, the night air making his skin prickle. “Yes.”

\---

Their mouths and hands were on each other before they’d even finished materializing in the empty inn-room. For all that it was clumsy and Castiel was unpracticed, there was a certain ease to it, a familiar feeling in the way their bodies fit together that could have only come from his vessel’s memories. It made him wonder if perhaps he could blame their vessels for this folly, if the gasping grinding idiocy in which they were engaging was caused by nothing more complex than mere human lust.

He knew it wasn’t true, but he held on to the thought anyway.

Unlike Castiel, Balthazar’s hands were sure and steady. “Is this what you want, Cassie?” he whispered in Castiel’s ear, as his fingers grazed across his ribs. “An ordinary human fuck to kick things off?”

Castiel nodded slowly, squeezing his eyes shut tight and arching into Balthazar’s touch. He’d been watching humans since their humble beginnings, and he’d always thought their mindless rutting seemed dull and repetitious. To find that he’d been so incredibly wrong, that just the whisper of Balthazar’s lips against the pulse in his throat could make him gasp and scrape his fingers against the wall…no, he didn’t think he could handle much more than this, much less Balthazar’s multitude of tricks.

“It’s...different,” he found himself saying, his breath hitching as Balthazar’s borrowed hand wandered farther and farther down, making its way under the fabric around his waist. “Different than what I thought...”

“Oh?” Balthazar asked teasingly. “What did you think, Cassie? That we’d be like dogs, mindlessly humping in a back alley?”

In spite of himself, Castiel felt a lopsided smile tug at his lips at his words. “Something like that. Just...repetitive...monotonous.”

Balthazar’s hand brushed over Castiel’s cock, and he groaned before he could stop himself, biting his lip as his knuckles clenched white against the wall. Balthazar moved with practiced ease as he wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s growing erection and _stroked_ , and an utterly foreign -- and yet somehow oddly...familiar -- heat coiled in his belly at his touch, pulsing with newfound vigor when Balthazar leaned in close and breathed in his ear, “And now?”

One word tumbled from Castiel’s lips as he stretched his neck back and let his head thump against the wall: “ _Glorious_.” Balthazar grinned lecherously and attacked Castiel’s exposed neck with kisses tinged with the stinging scrape of teeth.

Castiel found himself matching Balthazar’s movements, bucking up to his touch in a quickly established rhythm. He could feel Balthazar growing hard in his own vessel, pressing against him, and when he canted his hips forward and rolled their hips together, Castiel cried out. Suddenly he was teetering on the edge of something heavy and all-consuming, and Balthazar’s fingers moved to the base of his shaft, _squeezing_ and forcing a choked-back moan to tumble from Castiel’s lips as he forced that vast tempest into a dull, throbbing ache deep in his abdomen.

“Balthazar...” Castiel ground out, and his companion nipped playfully at the skin over his pulse point.

“Don’t want this over too quickly,” he said with a smirk, and he tugged Castiel away from the wall until they were both standing by the foot of the bed. He reached out, pulling off Castiel’s clothing without saying a word beyond his excited, breathy chuckle, and Castiel shivered as Balthazar ran his hands appreciatively up his sides.

He pushed Castiel down, until he was seated on the edge of the bed, the deep, heady throb in his groin cried out for relief, and when Balthazar advanced again, pressing him onto his back as he crawled over  him, he thrust up into the empty space between them with a long sigh. Balthazar kissed up his chest, over his neck, and Castiel dug his fingers into the bedding, groaning.

“Balthazar,” Castiel breathed. “I need...”

“What’s that?” Balthazar teased.

Castiel bucked his hips up again, his erection sliding against Balthazar’s thigh. “I _need_...” he repeated, and Balthazar hummed and thrust his tongue into Castiel’s mouth to silence him. This feeling was boiling over in his belly, drawing his hips up in desperate, erratic thrusting motions, and Balthazar just chuckled as Castiel clawed at the fabric still separating them.

“Patience is a virtue, Cassie,” he said.

“Virtue can wait,” Castiel growled back, and he tossed the toga away, letting it land where it would to be sorted out later. He hooked his arms around Balthazar’s neck, pulling him down, locking their mouths together again, and finally -- _finally_ \-- Balthazar pressed down, bringing their bodies flush together. When he rolled his hips, Castiel’s jaw went slack, the delicious hot slide of skin against skin sending sinful fire pulsing through his veins. Suddenly the world was spinning, and before he knew he even possessed the strength to do so in this body, Castiel had pinned Balthazar down on the bed, straddling him. The sense of satisfaction he got from seeing Balthazar so sincerely _impressed_ at that made him grin breathlessly.

“So insistent,” Balthazar quipped, and he gripped Castiel’s hips and pushed _up_. Castiel lurched forward, bracing his hands either side of Balthazar’s head, his face flushing. As their foreheads pressed together, Castiel got a good look at Balthazar’s lips, swollen and glistening from the way they’d been pressed against his own. His mind was flooded with beautifully enticing images of those lips around his cock, and somehow, Balthazar seemed to read his thoughts, reaching around to dig his fingers into the soft flesh of Castiel’s buttocks.

“I know what you want, Cassie, but I want you to tell me.”

Somehow, Castiel found the sense of mind to roll his eyes. Balthazar pinched his skin playfully. “Humor me,” he said. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want...” Castiel trailed off. It was not self-consciousness that made him do so -- or maybe it was, even though he had no reason to be -- but Balthazar reached down at that moment and wrapped a hand around both of their cocks and stroked slowly, and Castiel was lost in a long, bone-shaking groan at the feeling.  “Your mouth,” he clipped out, looking down at him with eyes half-lidded. “Your mouth on me...”

“Don’t be coy, Cas,” Balthazar said, his voice breathless and hitching as he ran a thumb over the head of his own erection, smearing pre-come across his skin as well as Castiel’s. “My mouth where?”

Castiel resolved then and there to wipe that damn grin from Balthazar’s face, and instead of answering, he pushed the wandering hand away and slid up Balthazar’s torso, pressing the head of his erection against his slightly parted lips. Balthazar’s grin only faded when he opened his mouth, leaning forward eagerly to take Castiel between his lips, running his tongue across the slit, and Castiel moaned unashamedly, curling forward and tangling his fingers in Balthazar’s hair.

Then Balthazar hummed, and _oh,_ he could feel it rattling up his spine and back down again, echoing through every part of his body and sending the heat in his abdomen searing out of control, tightening and tightening until he thought it would rip him apart from the inside out. Balthazar’s hands wandered up Castiel’s thighs, fingers pressing against the small of his back, pushing him forward so that he could take him in further, and it was at that moment that Castiel looked down.

Balthazar was gazing up at him, his eyes gleaming as he watched, Castiel’s cock plunging between his lips with all manner of obscene noises. The coil in his belly twitched and spasmed, and suddenly the tempest was growing again to its crescendo. Castiel found himself _needing_ more than he’d ever felt before, and he began thrusting into Balthazar’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat with every pistoning motion of his hips. He needed, _needed_ this thing that was growing closer with every second: a delicious, swirling abyss that was drawing him in with its enticing song that thrummed across every nerve and bone.

It was at the same moment that every muscle in his body contracted at once that he realized the desperate, keening moans filling the room were his own, but he didn’t have the means to hold them back. Instead they only grew louder as he squeezed his eyes shut, earth-shattering pleasure blazing through his body, leaving him shuddering, sweating, slumping over Balthazar as he blearily pulled back.

He watched with a rapt sort of wonder as Balthazar swallowed pointedly and pushed himself up on his elbows, cocking an eyebrow lazily. “And here I thought you’d need convincing,” he said. Castiel could feel himself growing red in the face, and he told himself that it was from the way his heart was still pounding in the wake of his climax. Balthazar’s hand wandered up Castiel’s chest, thumb flicking against his nipple, and he leaned up to kiss him again.

Castiel pulled away, sending Balthazar a smug look of his own before climbing off and turning from him. He ignored Balthazar’s questioning up as he ran his hand along the length of Balthazar’s body, finally wrapping his fingers around his straining erection. Balthazar grunted softly, the sound morphing into a sigh as Castiel moved his fist up and down, pumping experimentally. He wanted to taste him, to do to Balthazar what he had done to him moments ago. He wanted to see him undone, as he had been undone.

His name tumbled ragged and desperate from Balthazar’s throat -- “ _Castiel..._ ” -- as he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, his hand still stroking slowly, from root to where Balthazar disappeared into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the head, tasting the bitter, musky flavor of Balthazar’s vessel. Or perhaps he could merely describe it as _Balthazar;_ he was all Castiel could feel at the moment, and all he wanted to feel.

Balthazar’s moans grew more insistent, more urgent as he took more of him into his mouth, slow and determined, and he reached back to roll Balthazar’s balls in his palm as he pressed his tongue flat against the bottom of his turgid cock. Any words between them were lost in groans and gasps, and suddenly Balthazar was sitting up, his hand flying to Castiel’s shoulder and fumbling against his skin. Castiel took it as a cue that he was headed in the right direction, and he sped up the motions of his hand until his rhythm dissolved into erratic, hurried strokes. Balthazar keened, thrust up into Castiel’s mouth once, twice, and then came hot down his throat. Castiel choked a bit, but swallowed it back, running his tongue over the slit once more and earning a whine from Balthazar before pulling back.

They fell back onto the bed together, breathless and flushed, and after a few moments, Balthazar grinned at him. “So,” he drawled, sounding immensely pleased with himself, “shall we write our vessels’ refractory periods off as rubbish, do away with them entirely, and leap straight into round two? God only knows how much time we have left -- literally, _God_ only knows-”

“Actually, I have a pretty good idea.”

_Anna._

 In the space of a heartbeat, Castiel was clean, clothed, and standing at attention in front of Anna with his hands behind his back. He tipped his head slightly, and met her cool gray gaze with trepidation.

Balthazar, however, remained in bed, lounging shamelessly and looking, if anything, miffed that his fun was over. “If I had known we had an audience,” he yawned, rubbing absently at his stomach, “I might have put on a better show.”

“Luckily for all of us, I only caught the grand finale.” Anna’s vessel was a pretty slave girl, a Briton with copper hair and a brush of freckles on her cheeks. She looked too young and sweet for the expression Anna was wearing, a cross between amused affection and the sternness of a leader disobeyed. “Play time is over, boys. Balthazar, orders are to meet at the incredibly inconspicuous Pantheon.” She rolled her eyes. “Go ahead of us. Castiel, a word.”

Anna waited until Balthazar had left -- which he did with much sighing and stalling -- before returning her attention to Castiel and regarding him seriously. “You should be careful, Castiel. Balthazar has been toeing the line for eons without ever quite crossing it.” She leaned in close and dropped her voice. “Do you honestly think you can do the same?”

Castiel never had a chance to respond; before he could fully grasp what she was saying, his lieutenant was gone.

He stood for a moment, his eyes focused on nothing and his heart still beating too hard, before taking a deep breath and following like the good soldier he was. 


End file.
